


Of Mice and Magic

by Almadynis, Claudiosity



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, InCryptid - Seanan McGuire
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Gen, Good Severus Snape, Hufflepuff Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:21:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21748240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Almadynis/pseuds/Almadynis, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claudiosity/pseuds/Claudiosity
Summary: The Potter family had raised Aeslin mice for generations.  The mice served as living witnesses to Potter history - and, sometimes, as protectors.  Nobody expected Lily and James to name the mice as collective godmothers to young Harry.  Then again, nobody expected Lily and James to die. With Harry's two godfathers presumed dead and branded a Death Eater, respectively, Harry is given into the care of the Dursleys - and the mice.  The mice fill in the hole of the Dursleys' neglect, and no one is ever the wiser that a child is being raised by talking mice.  That is, until Harry goes to Hogwarts with a mouse on his shoulder, and the secret's out.  Now Harry must battle Voldemort, pass his classes, and somehow prevent his mice from being eaten by Mrs. Norris.
Comments: 34
Kudos: 173





	1. Part 01

**[excerpt from “Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them” by Newt Scamander]**

[[It should be noted that a cheeky muggle known as Seanan McGuire ostensibly got her hands on a copy of Mr. Scamander’s text and claims the Aeslin mouse as her own fictional creation. Thus a small subset of the muggle populace may recognize an Aeslin mouse if they came across one, though highly unlikely.]]

** Aeslin Mice **

[pronounced “Aayz-lin” with the long ‘a’ sound]

**Scientific Classification  
**Kingdom: Animalia  
Phylum: Chordata  
Class: Mammalia  
Order: Rodentia  
Family: Muridae  
Genus: Apodemus  
Species: Apodemus sapiens

**Range  
**The natural range and habitat of the Aeslin mouse remains unknown.

**Conservation Status  
**Unknown

**Threat Rating  
**None

The scientific name of the Aeslin mouse (Apodemus sapiens), means, literally, "the thinking mouse." They are considered part of the family Muridae, although they regard other members of the family as beasts of burden, predators, or sources of food, depending on their relative sizes and behaviors. A colony of Aeslin mice descending upon a rat is a fearsome sight indeed.

Extensive study has been performed upon the Aeslin mouse, courtesy of the colony which came to be with Charlus and Dorea Potter, who claimed to have found them "out back of the [Quidditch] pitch," engaged in ritual adoration of a snitch.

No Aeslin mice have ever been observed in the wild. Whether this is because they now exist only within human domiciles, or because they have become extinct apart from the Potter family colony, is currently unknown.

**Biology  
**Biologically, the Aeslin mouse is near-identical to a common field mouse. Dissection of already-deceased subjects has revealed an enlarged cerebral cortex, indicative of their human-level intelligence, and their forepaws are sophisticated enough to be considered true hands.

The birth rate of Aeslin mice is dramatically lower than that of their wild cousins. The average female will have one baby every two years, resulting in no more than three to four offspring over the course of her life. Aeslin mice take between three and five years to mature, and can live well into their late thirties. It is surmised that they would have far shorter lifespans in the wild.

**Description  
**The Aeslin mouse can be distinguished from the common field mouse by its more developed forepaws, and by its tendency to dress in clothing and jewelry fashioned from bones, bits of fabric, and things it has managed to steal from the kitchen junk drawer.

**Society  
**The Aeslin mouse has a highly sophisticated society, centered around a devout religious class. Each colony of Aeslin mice to have been recorded has worshiped a different god or set of gods. These have included, but were not limited to, a large oak tree, a roll-top desk, and Dorea Potter, nee Black’s, snitch collection. The colony currently living in the Potter family attic worships the family, females as priestess and males as gods. (The reason behind the Aeslin using a gender-caste distinction is unknown.) It is generally believed that these religious leanings are intended to keep the colony unified, and to prevent straying from places of safety.

Religious schisms occur every three to five generations, with groups of younger mice splitting off and leaving the parent colony to find new gods. To date, none of these child colonies have been heard from again. [The muggle McGuire claims a splinter colony found its way to an American family named Price/Healy. These claims have yet to be proven as the Price/Healy family has yet to be located.]

**Of Note  
**Aeslin mice never forget anything. Remember that when speaking in their presence, and choose your words with the attendant levels of care.

_**Due to recent events of October 31, 1981 and the fall of the Dark Lord Voldemort, it can only be assumed that the entire colony of Aeslin mice living with the Potter family were eradicated.**_

+++++HP++Aeslin++HP+++++

Severus cradled the little black-tufted head, barely larger than the palm of his hand, blinking bleary green eyes up at him. He’d been in awe at that moment as the small life had literally been put into his hands.

“He’s perfect, Lily,” Severus whispered.

“HAIL!” chorused the Aeslin. “Hail the coming of the new God, the Foretold One!” Their small handmade banners waved exuberantly in the air, as they had been all throughout the ordeal.

Lily glared at the mice. “You will _not_ be calling him that!”

James laughed, helping Lily to get herself together after the long delivery. “Father told me about this. They’ll keep trying different names for him until his personality starts to set. They’ve called me tons of things over the years. The week I learned to fly I was the God of High Heights and Large Laughter, I think.”

“Nay! You were the God of Large Heights and High Laughter upon the Week of First Flight!” squeaked a mouse. His bright blue feather proclaimed him a junior priest of the colony.

“You see? Now I’m just the lowly God of Energetic Changes.” James said with a playful grin.

“Fine,” Lily griped, “as long as the name doesn’t stick. I swear, James, if I didn’t love you so bloody much, the mice would be the straw that broke the camel!”

“HAIL!” waved the mice.

“Where’s my little godson?” Sirius Black called, coming into the delivery room with a literal bounce in his step. His eyes instantly found the bundle in Severus’ arms and pounced. “Hand him over Snivellus!”

Lily rolled her eyes at their antics. “He’s both your godson, Sirius. You have to share.”

While Sirius cooed over the newborn, Severus went to his childhood friend’s side. A few waves of his wand helped to clean up the sheets and reposition the woman so that she was more comfortable. “Who’s godmother?”

Lily and James both grimaced. “We had trouble deciding. Due to Father’s and Dumbledore’s manipulations, a close maternal figure is difficult to find. Especially one that would also take in the mice. Minerva is out, for obvious reasons. Alice is deathly afraid of mice, even talking mice. She met them once and the poor woman fainted dead away.”

“The only one that might be suitable is Amelia Bones, but she’s been so busy with Auror training we haven’t been able to ask her. Nor has she met the mice.” Lily said.

“So, at least for the moment, we’ve had to reconcile ourselves with the mice.” James said.

Severus blinked. Even Sirius stopped his stream of cooing, looking over at his best friend in shock. “Did you just say what I think you said? The mice. As godmother.” Sirius restated. “For a human child.”

James shrugged. “I turned out alright, didn’t I? I grew up with the Aeslin. They’ll do fine.”

“You grew up fine because you had humans as your main caregivers!” Severus spluttered. “Asking the mice to take care of a human infant? Are you out of your minds?!” He looked at the large gathering of nearly the entire splinter colony sitting in one corner of the room. (The birth of a new god was an occasion for such a massive presence.) “No offense. You’re wonderful in your own way. But little Harold is over a hundred times your body weight at BIRTH.” Severus turned back to the Potters. “He’s not intelligent enough yet to understand ‘gentle play’. He could easily kill a mouse by accident!”

“The mice know when to get out of the way. Harold might be bigger, but he’s far slower. Not to mention, the mice never forget anything.” Lily’s answer was somber. “If something happens to us and Charlus’ plans fall through…the mice will take care of him. Teach him what he needs to know, since they never forget anything.”

James nodded, his own countenance matching his wife’s. “I never had the skill of my father in advanced planning. This is the best we can come up with right now. The two of you,” he nodded at Sirius and Severus in turn, “and the mice, are our best bet. Just in case.”

“But seriously,” Severus gave Sirius a hard look to stop the inevitable joke, at which the Black Heir snapped shut his mouth, “to have a wizarding child raised by Aeslin mice? Are you sure?”

“I guess we’ll all find out if they’re needed.” Lily intoned.

James sighed. “This is one plan I sincerely hope is never needed.”

“Hail,” the mice acknowledged solemnly. 

+++++

Regrettably the plan was needed, as many unfortunate things are wont to do at the most inconvenient times.

When news of Lily and James' deaths reached Dumbledore, he immediately began making arrangements to place Harry with his muggle relatives, Lily's sister and her husband. However, Severus objected so strenuously that Dumbledore feared the man would give himself a stroke. In the wake of Voldemort's downfall, Severus looked pale and uncertain, as if the foundation of his world had suddenly shifted. Minerva had forced a large mug of tea into his hands at some point, and he sat in Dumbledore's office, trembling so violently that the tea sloshed over the side of the cup.

"No." Snape said firmly. His voice was steady, even if the rest of him wasn't. "I refuse. I am the child's godfather. Lily and James entrusted me and Sirius Black with Harry's care should anything happen to them. And as Black is currently..." his lip curled "indisposed, the responsibility falls to me."

"Severus, the world sees you as it sees the rest of Voldemort's old allies - a disgraced former Death Eater. Even if I vouch for your innocence - which I will do, and make no mistake about that - don't you think Severus Snape, former Death Eater, taking in the child responsible for Voldemort's downfall might, shall we say, raise a few eyebrows?"

Severus sunk lower in his chair, muttering rebelliously: "Better than placing him with muggles."

"Petunia is Harry's blood relation." Dumbledore said gently. "Her blood is Lily's blood. It will protect him as long as he stays there."

"Protect him from what?" Severus sneered. "A couple of the Dark Lord's old cronies who, no doubt, will escape Azkaban by a combination of cunning, lies, and bribery?"

Dumbledore said nothing and Severus suddenly got a sinking feeling that Dumbledore was thinking of protecting Harry from something much, much worse than a few disgraced former Death Eaters.

Severus swallowed hard. "What of the mice?" he asked pleadingly. "Lily and James named the Aeslin mice as Harry's collective godmother." Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could feel the irony. It was laughing at him. Only a year before, he had advocated against the absurdity of Harry being raised by a colony of talking mice. Of course, a year ago, the thought of Lily and James dying was just a theoretical exercise, a formality, if you will.

"Severus." said Dumbledore gently, in a tone that suggested he thought the younger man was quite mad. "I respect the wisdom of the Aeslin mice. Indeed, they have never led the Potters, or anyone else, astray. However, the fact remains that Harry will need a human guardian. Someone to purchase food and clothes and other necessities for him, not to mention sign papers and meet with school officials. And you must admit, a colony of talking mice is not entirely......discreet. Besides, all indications are that the entire colony perished with Lily and James. No mice revealed themselves to Hagrid when he retrieved Harry."

Severus knew when he was beaten, even if he didn't like it. Something in the set of Dumbledore's mouth told him that no further argument would be tolerated.

"Fine." he grumbled. "The child shall be placed with Petunia and her large, blundering, buffoon of a muggle husband. We shall be lucky if they don't throw the child out a window before he reaches eleven."

And so, it was set. Hagrid delivered Harry Potter to the Dursley's that very night. But unbeknownst to anyone, two small Aeslin mice, a mating pair, had nestled themselves in Harry Potter's blankets as he was carried away...


	2. Part 02

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Entering Hogwarts

Severus stared at the scared group of as-yet-unsorted first years. He knew that little Harry Potter was somewhere in that huddle. It had been so long since he'd seen the boy, on pain of Dumbledore's machinations.

When he finally spotted the head of black hair – so reminiscent of his father – Severus was surprised at the boy's attire. It was obvious that he'd stopped at Madame Malkin's (as most school children do for their uniforms) but there were additions. On the right shoulder was a carefully embroidered outline of the Potter Family crest in an acceptable black neutral. While not as noticeable, not even Malfoy had gone so far as to have the uniform altered to include his House's emblems.

Who would've given Harry such an idea?

Even Severus wasn't sure the school charter allowed it. However, if it wasn't, it had fallen out of favor as it was provocative.

Harry himself was well-groomed with bits and bobs tied throughout his hair. A couple of bright white owl feathers were attached down the right side of his face. Several beads of a variety of colors were to the left side. On a fourth look, Snape guessed that those braided decorations were serving a purpose: taming the characteristic Potter hair out of its stereotypical wildness.

On a seventh look, Severus noticed the small, almost imperceptible figure hiding in the boy's hair. A mouse. Fur so black as to blend in practically completely. The only thing that gave the mouse away were the inner pink of its ears – which it helped to conceal by keeping folded backward – and a few colored buttons.

" _Merlin's beard._ " he breathed. Minerva gave him a curious look, but said nothing.

There was no mistaking this mouse for an ordinary field mouse. Even from a distance, Severus knew what it was, even as logic was protesting the impossibility. Since the mouse was standing on Harry's left shoulder, the buttons were first assumed to be more decorations in Potter's hair. Thus the mouse became invisible again by people's lack of expectations to see a mouse riding on a boy's shoulder. If Snape hadn't known of the Potter's colony of Aeslin mice, he doubted he would have spotted the tiny creature either.

It was simple and ingenious.

But why had the boy brought the mouse at all? Severus didn't recall James or Lily ever bringing the mice to Hogwarts. Though he hadn't known of them at the time, so perhaps had just never looked.

As thoughts of the Aeslin came back to him, Severus realized another thing that had been bothering him. Harry's additions to his clothing and hair were entirely Aeslin in design and style. Bits that had been scavenged and repurposed to suit the wearer. Those careful stitches of the crest were certainly small. Perhaps the mice had done it themselves? They certainly had the capacity. He'd seen stranger accoutrement on the rodents!

"Potter, Harry!" Snape found that he'd missed almost the entire Sorting in his musings of his godchild when he heard McGonagall's yell.

Whispers broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall. He grimaced in annoyance, then decided he wasn't going to move. Especially when he heard some of the whispers.

" _Potter,_ did she say?"

" _The_ Harry Potter?"

The smaller-than-normal-for-his-age boy stepped forward without hesitation and pulled the hat upon his head. Snape was barely able to catch the mouse as it moved further backward; just a flash of button catching the light.

Several long moments passed as the hat and boy communicated back and forth. Harry's facial expression was mostly neutral, but had bouts of amusement, fear, and annoyance. Finally the hat yelled, "HUFFLEPUFF!" to the surprise of the entire Hall.

Severus privately mused that if Harry was influenced by the Aeslin as much as his appearance suggested, then the child's chosen House wasn't as odd as many might think. Hardworking and loyal certainly described the Aeslin well!

Applause was slow to start. However, it was politely offered (even with the surprised confusion on many faces) as it had been with all the other first years being sorted. The House that seemed to be the most reluctant was, surprisingly, Gryffindor.

"We didn't get Potter?" one twin asked.

The boy walked past the red and gold table to sit at the yellow and black decorated students. Snape nodded shortly – all the praise he was willing to bestow for actions that should have been done either way, no matter the child sorted – to the Hufflepuff Prefect that had deliberately made room beside herself. She blinked at the potions professor in surprise, but nodded back at him.

The rest of the Sorting Ceremony was uneventful. Severus focused on eating as the food finally appeared.

"Thank you," Harry Potter said politely to the older girl who had gone out of her way to make room for him.

She smiled, "No problem, kiddo. Give the others some time to get used to the real you, instead of bedtime stories."

"Bedtime stories?" his head tilted, showcasing his confusion.

"There's a whole book series devoted to your childhood adventures. Didn't you know?"

He shook his head. "I've lived with my muggle relatives since my parents died." He paused to eat. Then asked hesitantly, "How many people have read those books?"

Several others waved to signal. "I have." "Me too." "My mother read them to me when I was a kid."

"But…" Harry was still confused. "No one ever came to talk to me. People don't actually believe those stories… Do they?"

One of the oldest students there grimaced as he added his tuppence to the conversation. "In the absence of true fact or conflicting story, most will believe whatever they hear without thought to the logic behind what they are told." He gave the young celebrity first year a sympathetic look. "They will either learn that what they were told is in direct conflict to what they see in your behavior and realize the fault lies with their assumptions, or they will resent you being different to their expectations and react antagonistically."

"Oh," Harry said, looking down at his plate.

At last, the desserts disappeared, and the headmaster got to his feet yet again. The hall fell silent. "Ahem – just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of two redheaded twins. "I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch." The old man paused, giving the room at large what Harry assumed was supposed to be a stern glare. "I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

"He can't be serious," another first year down the table muttered.

"The man is insane and more manipulative than any other staff member." An older boy answered further down the table. "However, he knows he'd get sacked if any student were seriously injured due to his own actions."

"Meaning the chances that he's not serious right now are slim," an older female continued. "I'd stay out of that corridor if I were you."

The first years nodded quickly in agreement.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. He gave a flick of his wand, as if he were trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

Harry was impressed with the bit of magic, but then clapped his hands over his ears in an attempt to block out the horrible cacophony of sounds. They were all singing different tunes! He kept his ears covered until the uproar died. "Ah, music," Dumbledore said, wiping his eyes dramatically. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

"This way!" A Hufflepuff Prefect called to the newest members of her House. Rather like a mother duck gathering babies to follow her, she led them down halls and staircases until reaching the Hufflepuff dormitories. "Here we are. The password is 'always loyal' for now. It gets changed once a month. Be sure to get the new password or you might get locked out until someone comes along that does know."

A male prefect gestured as they entered a large circular den-like meeting area. "This is our common room. Over there is a noticeboard you should check often. It has any meetings posted or sign ups, along with our House Rules. You can look at them in the morning. For now, girls dorms are to the left and boys to the right. Your name is written on your door, along with your roommate. If you want to switch roommates, that can be arranged after the first week, but you have to take your case to our Head of House, Professor Sprout. In the morning, don't leave the common room without a prefect. We'll be directing you to your classes this first week until you get used to where everything is. Good night!"

Obediently, the group sorted themselves out by gender and filed past.

As luck would have it, there were an odd number of boys in the first year of Hufflepuff and since Potter was the last name sorted into the House, Harry got a room all to himself. He was pleasantly surprised to find his trunk already at the foot of his bed. He also had a knee-jerk instinct to rush forward and stick his head down. "Are you all right?" he called softly into the seeming disarray of clothes, books, and other school materials.

"Hail!" came the chorus from inside the trunk, six small heads popping out to gaze up at him adoringly.

Harry exhaled. "Good. Now, listen to me. You're welcome to my food at meals, but don't go off hunting for awhile. I don't want you eating someone's pet thinking it's a good catch."

The head priest, recognizable by his squirrel-skull hat, clambered slowly to the top of the fray. "We shall Refrain from Unauthorized Hunting." he squeaked.

"Hail, Refraining from the Unauthorized Hunt!" his congregation echoed. No one said capital letters like an Aeslin.

"Establish amongst yourselves a rotating schedule so that every member of the colony can accompany me to class at some point." Harry saw his head priest's whiskers go back in a sort of shocked dismay. "I don't want anyone trying to play favorites." He knew that the Aeslin had a rather strict hierarchy and part of him didn't want to change their society. However, another part of him really didn't like how only a select few of his priesthood were allowed to speak with him directly or even ride on his shoulder. Instead of saying this however, as the Aeslin would get offended, he said, "That way, everyone gets a chance to come with me and you all can share the burden of being still and silent."

Now the whiskers of several twitched. "Truly You are Wise," the head mouse intoned. None of them liked having to hide, even if after living with the Dursley's for so many years they had learned the necessity. This chance to rotate the duty of being with him as well as the burden of Being Out of Sight would be beneficial.


	3. Part 03

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McGonagall & Snape meet Harry

**+++++++**

**Part 03**

**+++++++**

Harry studied his Head of House with an appreciative gaze. Why hadn’t the Gryffindors or Ravenclaws been given their schedule the night before, as Sprout had done for them? Then they could’ve had notice of which textbooks they’d need for the day, instead of hauling all of them to breakfast. Or were they supposed to go back to their dormitory for their correct texts before the first class of the day? Or maybe their Heads of House had just forgotten? People did forget things (though the Aeslin didn’t) and Harry wanted to give everyone the benefit of the doubt before making judgements. 

Of course, one of the Aeslin Teachings was that Actions Speak Louder Than Words. Meaning that what people said didn’t mean as much as what they did. 

Harry made sure that the selected mice (one hidden in his hair and one in his chest pocket) were given a few cheese crumbs, though to anyone who noticed they would’ve just thought he had a couple itchy spots. Until he knew how the wizarding world would react to his mice, he would Err on the Side of Caution. After all, there were a LOT of people here and he didn’t know yet which would be like the Dursleys. 

Harry considered it part of his job, as God of the Colony, to keep his mice safe. 

+++++++++++++

**Transfiguration**

Such thoughts were on his mind when he followed a fifth-year prefect with the other first-years to the Transfiguration classroom and the first thing he saw was a **cat**. On the desk. Watching them. A Cat. Harry swallowed hard. Unconsciously, his hand came up to cup his chest pocket protectively. 

It was true that the Aeslin were smarter than most. Smarter than the Dursleys! They were omnivorous (mostly meat, cheese, and cake) and that they had no qualms with hunting for their dinner. However, that was when they had the benefit of large numbers. An Aeslin hunting party would need all seven of his colony. When they were on their own, as the two currently hiding on his person, their best defense was to hide. Best Defense: No Be There

Not to mention, while Harry knew that the Aeslin were smarter than a lot of humans, and definitely all the pets in the Surrey neighborhood, none of them had ever met wizarding pets yet. (Though, of course, their ancestors had, it wasn’t the same as first-hand experience. Not to Harry at least. Just because one knew _theoretically_ how to do something, _actually_ doing that something could be very different.) So it was no surprise to Harry when he felt the tiny paw on his neck, seeking reassurance from their God. 

When the cat turned into Professor McGonagall, Harry wasn’t the only one to squeak in surprise. He immediately raised his hand.

McGonagall stared at him. She hadn’t even started her lecture yet! “Yes, Mr. Potter?”

“Do you eat mice, professor?” he asked seriously.

Some of the other children gave a shocked gasp at his audacity, while a couple giggled. 

McGonagall’s stare intensified with laser-like precision. “Are you being disrespectful, Mr. Potter?” she asked in a low, dangerous tone. As it was the first day, she wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but she also remembered quite clearly how much of a troublemaker James Potter had been, even before the Marauders had been created.

Harry Potter shook his head vigorously and tried his best to clarify the question, “Humans don’t eat mice, but cats do. You are both a cat and a human. Do you eat mice when you’re a cat?”

Minerva suddenly remembered how an eleven-year-old James had approached her after the first class in first year, terrified that she ate mice. 

She crossed her arms and gazed at little Harry seriously. “While in my animagus form – which is what a wizard that can change into an animal is called – there are certain instincts that do carry over. If I stayed in my other form for a sufficient amount of time, those instincts would become much harder to ignore. However, as I am only a cat in shape, I still have the ability to think and reason as any human.” She paused, but could see that she would have to make it plainer for him. “No, Mr. Potter, I do not eat mice. Sometimes I chase them for the fun of it, but the Hogwarts House Elves keep me quite satisfied culinarily speaking.” 

Immediately, he looked relieved, again reminding Minerva of that other black-haired boy asking about mice. How odd. “May I begin the lesson now?” 

The boy blushed, and nodded. It was the last incident for that class period. Interestingly, Harry had been one of the few to have changed his matchstick into a needle. Minerva made a mental note to keep a closer eye on the boy, just as she did for all those that made the feat on the first day. James Potter had also been exceptional at Transfiguration, perhaps his son was more like his father than mere appearance. 

Silently, Minerva lamented that all she saw of Lily were the boy’s eyes. 

++++++++++

**Potions**

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons, only a couple corridors away from the entrance to their common room. The classroom was a bit colder than the hallway, Harry assumed that it was to keep the ingredients stored optimally. Many of said ingredients lined the top of all four walls, pickled in glass jars or framed, all with clear, neat labels. Examples of certain common or dangerous ingredients perhaps?

The classroom was arranged in two rows of thick, solid tables, effectively dividing the room in half. Two stools were placed behind each table. Two walls held waist-high bookshelves, all of which were full to bursting. Atop those shelves a few cauldrons were sitting, three of which already held simmering potions. The front of the class was more crowded. Two different doors than the one by which they’d entered, along with an even larger, more solid, desk than the students’ was sitting perpendicular to the two rows. Lastly, sitting at almost 45 degrees to the corner in which it was positioned, was a large blackboard stating: POTIONS – YEAR ONE.

Though the Hufflepuffs all came in together, it was interesting to Harry that the few Ravenclaws already seated had only done so on the left side of the room. It wasn’t as odd to him that his housemates claimed the other side, but he did wonder why were they segregating themselves? Or was he reading too much into this?

Harry ended up seated beside Susan Bones.

At the stroke of the last bell signaling the start of classes, one of the opposite doors opened briefly so that Professor Snape could sweep into the classroom dramatically. He was dressed in an all-black over-robe that had no sleeves. Considering the temperature of the room, the robe was to keep him as warm as possible while a lack of sleeves meant less to get in his way as he worked. (Harry quickly made a sketch at the top of his page to contemplate later.)

Severus began by taking roll, marking each student as they answered. Once that was finished, he looked up. His eyes were almost black, and were far colder than Harry was used to seeing (especially from a teacher) practically glaring at them. “You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making,” he began. He spoke barely over a whisper, but they caught every word easily. It helped that students didn’t seem to dare to even shift in their seat, intimidated by his penetrating eyes. “As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.”

Nothing broke the silence following his speech. Students exchanged looks varying from fear to incredulity to anticipation. Only a couple looked bored.

“Mr. Corner!” Snape suddenly barked. “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

The brunette, one of those who had looked bored, jolted to attention. “Uhhh…I dunno.”

Snape’s glare intensified a bit more at the rudeness. “Let’s try that again. Mr. Corner, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?”

Michael’s face darkened with anger as he understood that he was being called out on purpose. “Dunno.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed even further, almost slits. “ _Mister_ Corner,” he grit out, “in this class I expect all students to be courteous and respectful, or I will give you detention until you learn how to be polite. Now — try that again.”

The boy’s angry glare wasn’t as intense as the teacher’s, but it was obvious he was trying. “I don’t know, _sir_.” The last word was said as if it were an expletive.

“Thank you.” Those black eyes kept with Corner for several moments longer until the boy looked away. Then Professor Snape focused back to the other students. “What is the difference, Mr. Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?”

Harry bit his lip, thinking back. He’d read ahead several chapters in all his textbooks – his mice had insisted – but there were a good many of them, and all new information. He’d only wanted a general idea of what to expect, he hadn’t tried to memorize. “I know both are essentially the same plant. One is gathered at midnight on a full moon and the other is not. But I can’t remember which is which, sir.”

“Wolfsbane is gathered at midnight on the full moon. It is the main active ingredient in the Wolfsbane Potion, which helps werewolves keep their human mind during transformation.” The professor nodded. “Mr. Macmillan, where might I look for a bezoar?”

The Hufflepuff’s wide eyes could be called comical if there weren’t so much fear in them. “Sir, I don’t know, sir.”

“One ‘sir’ is plenty, Mr. Macmillan.” Snape’s eyes moved to the Ravenclaw side of the room again. “Miss Lantan, perhaps you’d like to tell me where to find a bezoar?”

“In the stomach of a goat, Professor. It’s one of the few known cures for almost any poison.”

He nodded again in praise at her prompt reply. Then focused on the Hufflepuffs again. “Miss Roper, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

The girl sitting in the last desk at the back of the room had been the only Hufflepuff to see the pattern of his questions and hurried to get out the two potions’ texts from her bag. She’d been quietly and quickly flipping through pages, trying to find the answer to the question she knew was coming. She’d been planning on whispering the answer to whomever was called upon, and was surprised when it was herself. “They make a sleeping potion known as the Draught of Living Death, Professor.”

“Miss Roper, I would like to call attention to your performance so far, if I may without embarrassing you overly.” He actually waited for her hesitant nod of agreement before continuing. He looked at the entire class critically. “Miss Roper was the only one of you to recognize that while she may not currently know the answer to my questions, she did know where she might find them and proceeded to actively search. She has demonstrated critical thinking and the ability to problem solve effectively.

“These are skills that you will hopefully develop, for you will need them. Not just as students of this class, but as you grow into adults.” He crossed his arms and eyed them. “I am aware that my class is your second and you may not know of how to effectively prepare.” He flicked his wand at the blackboard and writing began to appear, echoing his words. “Before any class, you should ensure to read a chapter ahead and review any notes that you took the previous session. Do a final look-over of any homework assignments to be turned in, checking for spelling and grammar.

“During a class session, you will be expected to be in your seat, ready to take notes as soon as the bell finishes ringing. Anything your professors say repeatedly, I _guarantee_ you, is highly likely to appear on a quiz or exam. Anything your professors write, you should copy, adding details as needed throughout the lecture.

“Directly after a class, you should go over the notes you took, adding any details you may have missed the first time. Then, begin any homework assignments the same night as they were given, for the relevant information to complete them will never be fresher in your memory.

“If you have a question or become frustrated, you should ask for assistance. Either from your fellow classmates, House mates, or your professors. Each of your instructors has a list of hours posted in their classroom, detailing when they can be located in their office for just such an occasion. Your Head of House also has a separate set of hours for further assistance on any topic, not just their own subject material. We are here to help you.”

His glare was back, directed at Michael Corner. “Be aware that magic— _all magic_ —is extremely dangerous. If you behave irresponsibly in any manner, you will be quickly disabused of the notion. You show respect to your professors because we will be doing our best to make sure that you _survive_ your time here. Am I understood?”

They all nodded in unison.

“Excellent. I have never had a student die in my class and I would like to keep that record. The previous potions professor here lost nine students. It is normal for between five and twenty students to die in potions class alone, worldwide.” He held their gazes for a long minute in which no one even twitched. Finally, he gave a last nod and turned. “We will begin by learning the different ways in which to cut ingredients. There are many different ways in which to do so. You may see examples of each on page 15 of your text.” He gestured with his wand and bowls appeared between pairs of students. “For the rest of class, you are to practice each type of cut with the apples I’ve given you. This is an essential skill you require for Potions and will be used immediately. I will be moving around the room, helping you as I see is required.” He paused, eyeing the motionless children. He raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

They moved.

About three-fourths of the class began by copying down the blackboard, making notations on what they remembered from Severus’ speech, just as he had instructed, then began practicing their cuts. As promised, he made rounds through the classroom, pausing to make comments here and there. In contrast to his foreboding demeanor during his introductory speech, the way he spoke individually to students was decidedly lighter. Though the man would never be called kind, he was not unkind either. Rather, speaking with a low, encouraging firmness as he offered corrections.

Harry thought he might like this class. Idly, he wondered how similar it was to cooking.

“Mr. Potter,” Snape gestured for him to stay a few more minutes as the others filed out. 

“I’ll wait for you,” Susan Bones promised, then quietly closed the door behind her. Harry knew that she would ensure he wouldn’t be left behind. 

“Sir?” 

“There are two charms you should know,” Snape said. “The first is the Notice Me Not. Watch closely.” He slowly went through the wand movements, pronouncing the incantation precisely. Then did the charm at speed, demonstrating on a bowl of cut apples. “The second is the Sticking Charm.” Again, he went through the movements and incantation with precision, then again at normal pace. “Your mice can help you,” he smirked as the boy’s eyes widened, “Yes, Mr. Potter, I know about them. In fact, I was named one of your godfathers. However, circumstances prevented me from raising you as my right,” he practically growled the words before continuing, “I’m more than familiar with the Aeslin. Your mother, Lily, was my best friend. Please come to me with any questions or concerns. Now run along, or you’ll be late for your next class.”


	4. Part 04

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herbology & Astronomy

Of Mice and Magic – Part 04

++++++++

Part 04

++++++++

**Herbology**

The third lesson of the day was Herbology. Again, a prefect came – this one a Ravenclaw fifth-year girl – to escort the Hufflepuffs to the greenhouses behind the castle. She took the time to explain which staircases could be used on which day of the week as well as what to avoid on their journey. They were met in the Great Hall by the first year Gryffindors, also being escorted by an older year.

Harry noticed that these eleven year olds were a little hostile, especially one particular red-head who seemed to be glaring at Harry anytime he looked over.

A dumpy woman was leaning over to weed a raised plot of dirt, her back to them as they approached. When she straightened to face them, they also saw that she was as short as themselves. “Hello students,” she called.

“Hello, professor,” they answered dutifully.

She smiled as she introduced herself. “I am Pomona Sprout, your Herbology Professor as well as the Head of Hufflepuff House. Now, as it is the first week, we will be working in Greenhouse One.” She pointed to the number 1 written in three-foot-tall black paint. “The greenhouses are numbered according to how dangerous the plants they house. The higher the number, the more likely you are to find yourself on the menu.” Though her voice was kind, it was also clear from her tone that she was perfectly serious. “There are ten greenhouses in total. We will only be working in Greenhouse One and Two this year.”

She flicked her wand and suddenly flitters of parchment zoomed from a previously unnoticed pile, settling to hover in front of each student until they took it. “Now, I want to warn you all that our Herbology class sessions are primarily practical, since you are not allowed to move your assigned plants out of the greenhouses. It will be your responsibility to read your text, as the schedule I gave you indicates, and ask me any questions you come across as soon as you have them. If no one asks me questions, I will assume you all understand perfectly and are ready to begin the practical side of the chapter reading.” Her smile was still kind and gentle, and her words still held enough steel to impart her warning effectively. “Now, let’s get inside the greenhouse and I will help orient you—"

Harry grinned, as he thought he’d like this class too. While it was unlikely he’d enjoy all his courses, so far, so good. Then he had a thought and raised his hand. 

Professor Sprout wondered what the boy could possibly ask, considering that they hadn’t even started the lesson yet. “Yes, Mr. Potter?”

“Are there any snakes in the greenhouses? Rats or mice? Unwanted...pests?” His tone was almost eager, though he stumbled over the last word. 

The matronly woman smiled at him. “While there can be snakes, rabbits, and other pests,” she used his word, “in many gardens all over the world, we are fortunate here at Hogwarts to have several Pest Avoidance charms in place, and they are updated annually. You have no need to worry.” 

Sprout eyed him throughout the lesson, though he didn’t ask anything else, vaguely remembering another black-haired boy asking about things in the greenhouses (a common question) and being disappointed in her answer (a very uncommon response). It rang a bell in the periphery of her mind, but when nothing immediately came to the forefront, she pushed it to the side for later contemplation in the privacy of her rooms. For the moment, she had to ensure one young girl didn’t accidentally put the wrong soil in her pot...

She didn’t hear as the black-haired boy solemnly whispered an apology to his shoulder. “I thought you might have a place to hunt in the greenhouses, but I guess not.” Graciously, the one patted his hand in appreciation of his thinking of them. A small Squeak! came from his chest pocket, making him freeze as the two closest (Susan Bones and Luna Lovegood) turned to look at him in curiosity. When nothing happened, and he just stared at her, she turned back to pay attention to the lecture. 

He glared down at his pocket and whisper-hissed, “Careful!” Then he softened his tone. “Don’t worry,” he said softly, “we’ll find a place to hunt. Until then, I’ll snag food like always.” He had been squirrelling food away in his pockets for a very long time, after all. Either for himself or for the colony. 

Idly, Harry remembered Professor Snape’s offer of help and wondered if hunting grounds qualified. Then the mouse on his shoulder poked him, helping him remember to pay more attention.

**Astronomy (midnight)**

Harry groaned miserably, along with the rest of his classmates, as they trudged back to their dormitories after their last class of the day: Astronomy. “Who thought a midnight class was a good idea?” he groused.

“When else can we view the stars?” Susan Bones asked, her tone just as begrudging.

“The Great Hall always has a view of the outside sky,” Wayne Hopkins muttered. “Why couldn’t a classroom be charmed to always show the night sky? That way Astronomy could take place during normal hours.” 

“My parents took me to a planetarium last year,” a muggleborn said thoughtfully, “and magicals are always going on about how much better their stuff is to non-magical. Shouldn’t they have a magical version of a planetarium?”

“Or at least a magical projector,” another agreed. “My primary school used them all the time.”

“If they do, then you have to wonder why Hogwarts – the supposed best magical school in Europe – doesn’t have one.” 

“Too expensive maybe.”

“But the teachers are all supposed to be the best in their fields. Couldn’t they make one? ‘Cause seriously, this is torture.” All of them gave an agreed moan as they divided up into the male/female dormitories. A good portion of them fell into bed, fast asleep still in their clothes.

Unknown to them, there was a group of Hufflepuffs that overheard them, having been in the common room when the first years came through. The upper-years glanced at each other in surprise. “Why haven’t we ever thought of that?” It was rather obvious in retrospect. 

“I have no idea. It was just one more thing to get used to as a firstie.” 

“Hmmm...I think I’ll ask Sprout in the morning.” 

A very quiet Harry whispered to his shoulder, “Will you help me with the stars? I’m so tired I don’t think I got even half of it down.” 

“Hail!” the mouse agreed.

**Earlier that evening, Snape’s Personal Quarters**

Severus stared bemusedly at the note, delivered by a snowy owl, not sure whether to be amused or worried. 

_Dear Mr Professor Snape,_

_The mice remember you and would like to extend their heartfelt thanks for the charms. It makes being Being Out of Sight easier for them, and safer. I really appreciate it too._

_The mice would also like to supplement their diet with meat. Is it safe for them to hunt the hallways here? I don’t want them to get hurt. I asked about the greenhouses, but those have charms on them that prevent garden pests from getting in. Can you think of someplace?_

_Sincerely, Harry Potter_

With a slight sense of foreboding at the wisdom of what he was about to do, Severus penned a quick reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to get back into the swing of writing.  
> Tell me what you think. Please don't be too harsh. I know it's not perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> co-written with Claudiosity
> 
> We've been working on this premise for over a year now. We wanted to post the first bit to see the reception.  
> Please leave a comment if you want to read more!


End file.
